Clavicle

The physio removed my sling today and I am missing its gentle, understated support. I lay on the clinic bed shrieking and cursing with every move, realising that the hard work to get this hinging arm back on track starts now. Apparently I am not allowed to lift a cup of coffee for the next month; I wonder if that also means a glass of wine.
Hoping that the demoralised feeling will shift.